


WinterIron 3 - Bows

by tisfan



Series: Stocking Stuffers [19]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Insecure Tony Stark, M/M, Marriage Proposal, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tony Stark Feels, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 02:19:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13067085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Bucky wraps a present for everyone.Except Tony.





	WinterIron 3 - Bows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kittyfantastico](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittyfantastico/gifts).



 

Bucky approached Christmas with the meticulously detailed plan of attack that had made him an enemy to be reckoned with back during his Hydra days.

He had a schedule of events and time blocked off for shopping -- and categorically refused to do any shopping online -- and one entire trip was dedicated entirely to purchasing boxes and wrapping paper and bows and ribbons. Unlike Natasha, who bought whatever hideous paper caught her eye, or Steve who wrapped everything in butcher’s paper and red ribbons, or Tony, who let the merchant wrap things in whatever they thought was appropriate or classy, because he was Tony goddamn Stark and he wasn’t going to waste his time  _ wrapping presents _ , or even Clint who forgot half the time that he was supposed to wrap stuff and borrowed the newspaper comic sheets at the last minute for something colorful, Bucky had a plan.

He bought base, plain colors for each of his friends; red or blue or black or purple, and ribbons that matched the signature looks. He didn’t have to tag anything, because anyone could tell, just looking at the gift, who it was supposed to be handed to; purple paper with deep gray ribbons for Clint, black with red accents for Nat, red, white and blue for Steve.

And he wrapped with scary precision; each edge was crisp, each fold was meticulous, and there was no wasted tape or crooked ribbons. He curled ribbon with ease, and arranged bows in tasteful patterns.

It was gorgeous.

Bucky was gorgeous.

The rest of the planning was Pepper, who liked to schedule stuff, or Steve who had a lot of Christmases as a poor kid to make up for, or Nat, who had a streak of sentimental about a mile wide that she’d deny strenuously.

Tony… well, he mostly just paid for things and tried to figure out what were appropriate gifts and what was too much, and erred on the too much side more often than not, but it was Christmas and his friends were prone to letting him indulge, at least once a year.

But… he could count.

And he could easily see the patterns of Bucky’s wrapping.

And there was nothing in that stack that Bucky put around the tree that was wrapped in  _ Tony’s  _ signature colors.

Which, Tony told himself, wasn’t a big deal. He knew he was ridiculously hard to buy for. Honestly, there wasn’t anything on the planet that he couldn’t afford. He’d even been known to buy  _ people  _ from time to time (okay, rent them long term, and usually only for capacities like Extreme Sciencing and Efficient Organizing). And he wasn’t in the habit of denying himself anything he wanted. That was just good economics there, trickle down theory didn’t work if the super rich sat on their piles of cash like fat, sleepy dragons.

But as the days went by and Christmas crept closer, and Bucky kept adding to his stack of gifts for other people under the tree, and Tony fretted about the few things that he’d gotten Bucky (a new and upgraded motorcycle, and a new sensor package for the metal arm that he was about 92% certain would actually allow Bucky to distinguish textures with the fingerpads, Tony had to admit, he was a little bit hurt.

Only like 11% hurt.

It was the  _ thought  _ that counted, right?

So… did a lot of nothing mean that Tony wasn’t… being thought about?

That was one option. 

He supposed the other option was that Bucky was thinking too hard and was lost in the mire of having to deal with  _ Tony Stark _ . Which was kinda bad, because usually that mire was sticky and smelly and annoying, and more people than Tony wanted to think about had decided that the advantages of dating Tony Stark were vastly outweighed by the drawbacks. (Which was a hell of a lot of drawbacks, really, because Tony was -- superficially speaking -- a hell of a good catch.)

Well, he supposed, maybe it was too big to be wrapped. Tony had been eyeballing the new Regera, but hadn’t decided he actually  _ needed  _ a new car. On the other, other hand, while Bucky had a good sum of cash that had been diverted to him from various Hydra accounts and that Bucky himself called his “back pay” with a certain sneering lift to his mouth, he probably wasn’t going to buy Tony a two million dollar car for their first Christmas together.

(Of course, now that Tony thought about it, Tony did  _ not  _ need a new car, but Bucky might like the Regera. He made a mental note to check with his purchaser. The Gryphon model was even coming in a 24-carat gold leaf accented paint job, and Bucky did look good in red.)

And then it was Christmas eve and there still wasn’t anything under the tree for Tony. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, there were the usual piles of gifts from the other Avengers, which were inevitably Iron Man merchandise because either everyone thought it was funny, or everyone thought he was a hands-down, irredeemable narcissist. Or something in the middle. That was fine; he loved the merch, it was hilarious. He tended to buy the other Avengers gear and figures and toys for himself as well. (The Captain America waffle-maker was among his favorite ridiculous merchandise purchases.)

But Bucky didn’t say anything, and Tony couldn’t just ask, that was like horribly rude even from people who weren’t billionaires.  _ Where’s mine? _

So, he totally wasn’t going to confess that he got up extra early Christmas morning for any other purpose aside from getting the coffee-maker started early.

Nothing.

And there was nothing when the Avengers finished unwrapping and exclaiming that could have possibly been from Bucky and just wasn’t labeled or something.

It didn’t make sense. 

Or it did, and Tony didn’t want to think of the implications behind it.

He managed to sneak out of the main room unnoticed somewhat after dinner and headed down to the shop. If anyone asked, he was going to tell them he traditionally spent some time of Christmas with the bots, which was oddly enough, true, although it was usually because he was alone for Christmas, and not because he wanted to be alone.

Except there was someone already in his workspace.

Bucky was there, fidgeting with a wrapped box.

“Hey, babe,” Bucky looked up. “Can I borrow your finger for a minute?”

“Huh?” Well, he supposed if he wanted to spend time with the bots, and Bucky actually really liked the bots, Bucky might have gotten U or Dum-E a present, too. Which was kinda sweet, and if Tony wasn’t nursing a potential broken heart (Don’t you think you’re being a little melodramatic, Stark?) Tony might have found it adorable.

Bucky grabbed Tony’s hand and pushed his finger down on a section of bow. “Jus’, hold that, right there.”

The wrapping paper was white on white, elegant. 

Certainly not for Tony.

Bucky tied an elaborate bow on top of the present, bigger than the damn present itself, practically. He tucked a sprig of mint and holly into the bow, adding to the festive look. “What do you think?” He held the box out to Tony for inspection.

“S’lovely,” Tony said. “Who’s it for, Emma Frost?” She was the only person he could think of off the top of his head who had a white on white scheme.

Bucky made a scoffing noise in his throat, turned Tony’s hand and put the box in it. “It’s for you, dollface.”

Tony stared. Glanced down at the box. Back up at Bucky. There weren’t very many things that traditionally came in a box that size. He swallowed a lump in his throat. “What is it?”

“Some genius you are,” Bucky scolded. “S’right there in your hand, why don’t you _ open it  _ and find out?”

“You know, we gave out presents earlier today…”

“Yes, and the Regera is lovely, Tony,” Bucky said. “But I didn’ wanna put you on th’ spot or nothin’. Ain’t fair to either of us, if you feel like you gotta play an audience, even if it’s just, you know, our friends.”

Tony was shaking by the time he got the knot off the box and cracked the lid.

“I was hopin’ you might do me th’ honor of lettin’ me make you happy, for the rest of your life,” Bucky said, sliding down on one knee, eyes wide, face tipped up with hopeful expectation.

Tony covered his mouth with one hand, staring at the ring that sat, smug with anticipation, in the crushed velvet box. He stood there, a loss for words, for so long that Bucky started to look worried. “It’s a yes or no question,” Bucky prompted.

“Oh.” Tony swallowed and then, he couldn’t seem to help it, tears welled up and spilled down his cheeks. “Oh. Oh. Oh. Well… oh, my god. Oh. Bucky… I…” He threw his arms around Bucky’s neck and nearly knocked them to the floor in his urgency to kiss his  ~~ boyfriend ~~ fiancé. 

When Bucky could breathe again, and Dum-E had picked the ring up from where it’d rolled under one of the benches, he presented it to Tony again. “Is that a yes?”

“That’s a yes.”


End file.
